


is that black lipstick?

by erintoknow



Series: Aria [22]
Category: Fallen Hero Series - Malin Rydén, Fallen Hero: Rebirth (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, POV Female Character, POV Second Person, Roller Derby, Trans Character, Trans Female Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-22
Updated: 2019-08-22
Packaged: 2020-09-24 06:53:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20354221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/erintoknow/pseuds/erintoknow
Summary: Alternative outlets can be found outside of the traditional lines





	is that black lipstick?

Physics work differently on wheels, you’re sure of it. All that rigorous training spins out into confusion as slide and stop in ways you don’t expect. Push off, lean in, scoop under. It’s hard not to cheat, pull in your awareness as tight as you can. But oh, she’s come up on your left hard, so swerve right, but not too right, stay in bounds and–

–brief moment of alarm, they’re going too fast and then–

Something– someone crashes into your butt from behind hard, and you topple over head first into the asphalt. Helmet bounces on the ground as you cry out, feel the rash of heat then fire as the skin of your palms scrapes the ground. The moment stretching out as you tense your abdomen and try to twist on to your back to better protect your face. But you can’t wring time that thin and when you come to a stop you are laying in a heap on your side. “Ow.” Your one concession to let everyone know you’re alive.

“Holy shit, you okay?” A forest of legs on skates crowding around you now. Too many faces peering down, it’s worse than the fall was.

You find the face that spoke, focus on them. “I’m good!” You lie, wince, smile.

She waves her hands at the rest, beckoning the group to back up. “Give the girl some space people, Jesus, Mary, and Joseph.” She leans in with a hand extended to help you back to your feet. “Take a break Nunya, Sailor Doom can swap in for a bit.”

You frown, want to protest, but you can also feel the grit in the skin of your hands, and the dull throbbing that’s forming in your head. “Yeah. Yeah okay, thanks Rita.” Rita claps you on the shoulder and you manage not to flinch at the contact, there’s a first. “Sorry.”

“Oh puhleaze, happens all the time.” She waves you off before you can protest.

You roll over to the curb, high-fiving Sailor Doom as she skates in. “Good luck!” You call out and she gives you a nod and a thumbs up. Careful not to fall down again, you sit down on the curb and take your skates off and check yourself. Clothes still in place, sizing down turned out to be the right decision, even if it was a little uncomfortable. Maybe you should look into gloves too. Complete the punk look.

“Oh my god, Ariadne? Is that you?”

You jump, back up straight. Is that Ortega? You hurriedly look around, and yep, there’s Ortega walking to you, skirting the edge of the parking lot. How? Why? You meekly raise your hand to greet her.

“Ariadne? That is you– what are you– Is that _black lipstick_?”

You wave your arms frantically trying to shush. “Not so loud! And it’s not Ariadne. It’s Nunya.”

She stares at you, taken aback. “_Nunya_?”

“As in, Nunya Beeswax.”

She stares.

“It’s… It’s a joke. Get it?” You can feel the heat tinge your face.

There’s a small smile now. “What are you doing here?” She glances out at the game still going strong around the parking lot. “You know this is parking lot right? You can’t play here.”

You cross your arms, staring her down. “What? Is the Marshal going to bust up a derby game? Don’t you have better things to do?”

Ortega raises a hand to ward you off, “I’m just saying.” Rubbing the back of her neck she looks between you and the rest of the derby girls.

“Believe it or not Charge, but I do have a life outside of hanging out with the Rangers all day.”

“Oh yeah, since when?”

“A while!” You raise your voice in protest. “It’s just pick-up games, since… you know. But I like it.”

A sly smirk spreads across Ortega’s face. “You aren’t cheating, are you?”

You blink, put a hand to your chest in only partially faked outrage. “I would never!”

“Uh-huh. You’re definitely cheating.”

“C-Charge!”

“How often do they do games? I guess I’ll have to start coming by to keep you honest.”


End file.
